


Cruel to be Kind

by baekbuns (mumz)



Series: All About Us [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkward First Times, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Horrible use of Overwatch puns, Humor, M/M, Other members are briefly mentioned, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-26 16:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12561960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumz/pseuds/baekbuns
Summary: Chanyeol knows he's downright screwed the moment Baekhyun confesses he has asurprisefor him.





	Cruel to be Kind

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to finally update this. The entire month had been spent writing and re-writing this draft way too much lol but yeah, I'm finally getting my butt down to finish it and post it. This part is heavily plotted? compared to the first, but I wanted to include more details of the AU and the relationships, as the next part will have more characters joining and some, um, drama *cough*
> 
> I suppose this could be read as a stand-alone oneshot, there are a few references from the first part scattered around but nothing too obvious I guess. Enjoy~

 

 

“This is ridiculous,” Baekhyun half groans, half moans, his grip on Chanyeol’s shoulders becoming a tad more painful than pleasurable. “Yeol--“

Chanyeol shuts him up with a bruising kiss, nipping at his pouting mouth as he readjusts Baekhyun’s smaller frame against the wall at the bottom of the stairs.

He could understand his boyfriend’s thoughts, it really _is_ ridiculous—the rashness and the discomfort of the situation—but there is hardly anything they could do about it and Chanyeol had to admit that, despite being perceived as quite the honorable guy, he's still young and weak to temptation, and at this precise moment, he can undoubtedly accept he's also utterly despicable.

But truth be told, he can't blame anyone about the current predicament but Byun Baekhyun: lifetime best friend, now also boyfriend of almost a year, and the light—and in certain situations bane—of his youthful existence.

Because no one had asked the smaller boy to barge into the Park household looking like the vivid nightmare of the most pious devotee.

And here laid the consequences of his actions.

  

\---

 

Band practice had been particularly rough that day.

Joonmyun had been understanding, the rest of the band members more or less forgiving, but Minseok not so much. The ripped lead guitarist had wanted to smash his glossy green Fender on Chanyeol’s face whenever the clumsy drummer missed a beat.

Which had been _a fucking lot._

But Baekhyun had promised to come over to dinner that Saturday, and although that wasn’t such an unexpected situation on its own, in fact being quite the normal occurrence in their relationship, the latter had promised him a _surprise_.

'I have something for you.' He had revealed on their way back home yesterday. And before Chanyeol could even begin guessing, his mouth had been sealed shut by a slender finger and a coquettish smile. 'You'll find out tomorrow. Don't think too much about it.'

But Chanyeol had the attention span of a baby goldfish by default—half of it already belonging to his roguish boyfriend—so it was safe to say that he had been reduced to an overthinking dunce for the entire day, wondering what the pretty boy had in store.

Sadly, nothing could’ve prepared him, the moment the doorbell rang, for the chaos that was about to ensue with that promised _surprise_.

Because right before his very own eyes stands Byun Baekhyun, freshly out of his darkest, wettest fantasies.

“You look... you look...” Chanyeol blushes at the lack of words, his brain suddenly out of order and his dick impolitely trying to stand up and take a look. He’s trying really hard not to be too obvious, trying not to blatantly ogle, but god fucking _dammit_.

Tight black pants, low wine colored V-neck shirt and stylishly worn out leather jacket.

And the surprise? That fucking black velvet choker Chanyeol had secretly eyed at the mall on one of their dates a few days back, daydreaming on how good it would look wrapped around Baekhyun's smooth skin. 

The eighteen year old stands patiently at the doorstep, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands as he calmly watches the tall teen open and close his mouth a few times, almost as if his brain is agonizing right before his eyes by the overload of visuals. 

In retrospective, Chanyeol certainly _was_  agonizing—drowning in a pool of unwanted desire with Baekhyun dunking his head in its filthy waters over and over and--

“Hot?” Baekhyun teases, tilting his head to the side as he bites his lip and promptly raises an eyebrow.

“Troublesome.”

With a roll of his beautiful eyes and a mere shoulder shrug—he knows he’s both more often than not—the latter throws one last coy smile at his hopeless boyfriend before he softens its edges at the sight of Mrs. Park once she makes herself seen, fussing around them as she accepts the flower bouquet with a flourish.

She ushers the now meek Baekhyun out of the cold autumn night and through the threshold, not before chastising her own son for his horrendous lack of manners towards his angelic boyfriend.

And with a low snort from the lanky drummer and a chuckle from the angelic—read as entirely demonic—boyfriend, they all go on their way to having a pleasant Saturday night dinner in honor of Yoora’s final thesis for her English Literature major having been approved with high marks.

...or at least that had been the agreed schedule, but Chanyeol had known, from the moment he had seen Baekhyun’s suggestive eyes across the table once seated, tongue casually licking the fork clean after praising Mrs. Park for her splendid meatloaf, that their Saturday night would be very _pleasant_ indeed, but for very obvious reasons that completely stirred into more lewd terrains.

Baekhyun’s intentions had been laid down over the table from the start, right before Chanyeol's incredulous eyes.

Disarmed and hopeless, he could only keep his mouth shut and stare wide-eyed as his boyfriend licked softly the corner of his mouth before biting on his lower lip shyly, not at all frazzled by the fact that Chanyeol’s parents were just _right there_ —completely unaware, but still very much there.

And luck—or disgrace?—was clearly staying absent for the night, his parents entirely oblivious to the fact that Baekhyun had taken it upon himself to rile Chanyeol up by sexing up every single piece of cutlery his pretty fingers found on his vicinity, making the tall teenager a squirmy mess.

Chanyeol had barely been able to respond to his parents’ questions earlier at the table, his short, clipped answers making his folks a little restless, bordering exasperation, but then had swooshed in his tiny boyfriend, armed with his big, amiable smile to save him.

Baekhyun charmed his parents’ pants off as soon as he stepped in, casually shifting the conversation towards himself. _Th_ _ank you Lord baby Jesus!_

And as much as Chanyeol wanted to be annoyed with the latter since it was _his_ fault in the first place for turning him into a mumbling verbally-challenged lump, he couldn’t help but stare fondly at the way Baekhyun’s eyes seemingly twinkled with unconcealed enthusiasm under the soft-dimmed dinning room lights.

He's literally glowing as he talks excitedly about the upcoming play he’ll be starring in for the school’s upcoming Christmas special.

“Oh Baekhyunnie!~ You’ll definitely make the most handsome Seymour!” Mrs. Park coos while clasping her hands together, enamored with the thought of innocent Baekhyun wearing suspenders and thick-rimmed glasses.

The play will be  _Little Shop of Horrors_ , one of their ultimate favorites.

The memory of Baekhyun jumping up and down the hallway in sheer joy a month ago after realizing he got the main male role, hugging some of his friends that also made the cut before pushing and mauling his 6’1 boyfriend against the lockers, eager to engage in a private celebration of their own—celebration that won them both a trip to detention that day for _Indecent Behavior_ —has Chanyeol’s face splitting in a grin.

“Aw, baby yoda's smitten…” Yoora mocks under her breath, tone partially condescending beside him with her eyes still glued on her cellphone, before she rolls her eyes and snorts. “How ugly.”

Chanyeol scoffs, flickering his sister’s ear and causing her to shriek. “Shut up, yodaline.”

Dinner doesn't last long, dessert following right after half the meatloaf in the baking pan is gone—but it doesn't matter anyways, much to Chanyeol's dismay.

Baekhyun had continued with his inappropriate behavior all the way to dessert, and as he licks his own way to hell with his tongue flickering over the spoon the moment his parents turned around to bring the dirty dishes to the kitchen—mouth closing on the tip of the metal utensil with eyes focused on his boyfriend, casually sucking on the remaining whipped cream—Chanyeol is automatically paying right then and there his own one-way ticket to hell, willing to follow the sultry temptress into eternal damnation.

For the reason that Baekhyun, in that fleeting moment, with his kohl-lined eyes and hooded stare across the table, was no longer human but the perfect embodiment of  _sin—_ begging to be committed.

And who was Park Chanyeol, but a poor sinner with poor conviction, eager to fall into temptation one and a million times if it came in the form of this devastatingly gorgeous creature before him.

Sure enough, the raven-haired teen must have noticed the forlorn pleas etched across his face, as something akin to recognition suddenly flickers in Baekhyun's eyes before lips curl into a wide, cunning smile, moving around his seat as he steals a quick glace at Chanyeol’s parents still busy around the kitchen before he looks back.

“Wrong leg, Baekhyunnie.” Yoora clicks her tongue with a quick shake of her head, almost as if chastising, before her lips lift into an ear splitting grin and her eyes shift from her phone to the petite teenager across the table.

Baekhyun bites his lip, offering a lop-sided smile in return. “Sorry Yoo, my bad.”

Chanyeol blinks in confusion at the exchange, soon frowning as he catches his boyfriend chuckling while hiding his flushed cheeks behind his hand with Yoora resuming her obnoxious texting, now with a small smile hanging from her lips...

_what the hell!?_

“Yoora?” Mrs. Park pokes her head into the dinning room right then, her dimpled smile unassuming. “You said something sweetie?”

“Oh, nothing important mom, just that it’s getting late and I should probably leave.” Yoora beams as she stands up, and the fact that she had so blatantly lied, right in their faces, spurs Chanyeol’s annoyance and curiosity heaps.

He’s one second away from opening his stupid mouth, telling on her— _no mom, that was not what she said! She’s having cute, secret eye-conversations with my boyfriend!_ —and demanding to know like the greedy idiot he is what had been mysteriously implied between the two, but his nagging is abruptly put on hold as something warm presses itself against the inside of his thigh.

It only takes Chanyeol a quick look down his lap to catch a glimpse of Baekhyun’s pretty socked foot toeing its way up and down his inner thigh.

“Oh.” He gasps, though he didn’t really intend to say anything. He blushes bright red, from his cheeks to his ears, and Baekhyun grins cheekily despite his previous embarrassment, even mouthing a silent _cute_ while blowing a quick kiss across the table the moment Mrs. Park and Yoora are distracted, backs turned to the flirting teenagers.

Chanyeol could hear his sister and his parents talking in the kitchen, Yoora reassuring them she would be back home no longer than two am, and his dad had said something back but it got lost in the current haze fogging his thoughts.

Everything inside Chanyeol's head, from his brain to his thoughts, is now reduced to silly putty with the way Baekhyun continues to press and caress up and down his thigh

He can only stare, appalled of the fact that the gorgeous, little monster could have the audacity to pull all this shit up and still keep such a nonchalant demeanor in the presence of his future in-laws.

As his tiny foot keeps pressing and testing Chanyeol’s patience, his slender index finger traces the rim of his glass, still half full with apple juice. The finger dips unexpectedly inside the glass and into the clear liquid.

Chanyeol narrows his eyes. “Baek...”

But Baekhyun just smiles, completely blasé about the weak warning, with the slight tilt of his head sideways giving an air of faux innocence that fully contrasts the defiled actions taking place under and over the table.

“Hmm?” His tongue rolls over his lip piercing casually, with his finger no longer dipped in the cool beverage but breaching past his pink lips, mouth closing on the digit, and his smoldering eyes have the younger one stumbling and tripping down the long staircase to hell.

Chanyeol’s mouth opens once more to scold the misbehaving teen, or at least to convince him to keep himself in line until they could finally be alone, but Baekhyun had made it clear he was on a mission, from which he would not be deterred.

Most likely encouraged by his helpless, and painfully aroused boyfriend, Baekhyun leans back against the chair, pushing his finger a little deeper in his mouth, past the second knuckle as his foot slides higher.

Simultaneously, as his foot finally nudges Chanyeol’s raging boner, his lips wrap around the finger a little tighter.

And he sucks. _Hard_. Chanyeol’s soul included.

The embarrassment Chanyeol felt as he pretty much hauled the smaller one out of the dinning room and into the kitchen to let his folks know they’ll be playing videogames in his room and calling it an early night had been preposterous.

But the shame he had drowned in, with the way his sister had wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as she eyed the way her brother _oh so casually_ gripped Baekhyun’s shoulders while placing the grinning teen upfront, shamelessly using him as a shield for the throbbing dick tenting his jeans, had been down right degrading.

Chanyeol had never made his way down his bedroom stairs as fast as he had that night, not even unnerved by the chuckling teen trailing behind his bothered boyfriend.

 

\---

  

“Yeah, it _is_ ridiculous.” Chanyeol huffs back to reality, pulling away enough to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend’s disheveled appearance; pupils full blown and kiss-swollen mouth begging to be devoured. “And also _your_ fault.”

Baekhyun looks torn, between peeved and aroused, heart slamming against his ribcage with the strain of keeping himself off the floor with only his legs around Chanyeol’s jagged hips and his hands fisting his shoulders into balls of wrinkled fabric as leverage.

“ _My_ fault?” Baekhyun scoffs, almost sounding offended by the drummer’s outrageous accusations.

“You honestly can’t expect me to stay put when you start molesting my junk with your pretty, little foot under the table as you defile my mom’s favorite silverware. And besides,” Chanyeol leans forward, pressing the lithe body once more flat against the wall.

His mouth starts trailing wet, molten kisses across the pale, smooth column of Baekhyun's neck, teeth scraping over his pulse and the expanse of his tattooed skin, drawing a breathless moan from the teenager trembling in his arms. “You knew what you were asking for the moment you walked in looking like you just clocked out from your part-time job at the Second Circle of hell. So, own up to your actions Byun and assume the consequences.”

“Fuck...when did you become such a cocky, little shi-“ The insult gets lost in favor of the loud moan breaking past his plush lips at a particularly hard bite—Chanyeol mentally pats himself in the back for having remembered to put some loud Nirvana album to drown the latter’s cries.

Hearing those wrecked sounds makes him press his grin full of contentment against his boyfriend’s slick neck, trying not to laugh as he feels Baekhyun’s hand fisting his dark locks, tugging him closer to his racing pulse.

“I’ve always been cocky.” Chanyeol breathes out as he rolls his hips. His hands at the back of the petite teen’s thighs grip the supple flesh harder as he hoists him up, readjusting his legs around his hips.

Even while feverish, with the escalating desire burning through their veins, Baekhyun still manages to lean his head back against the wall as his hips start meeting Chanyeol’s languid thrusts with slow rolls of his own, feeling their erections brushing through the fabric of their jeans.

His thin lips are pulled upwards in that peculiar way of his that on a daily basis, to everyone else seems amiable enough, but to Chanyeol means everything _but_.

He's too consumed and far gone at the moment though to realize he just accidentally stepped on a huge landmine.

“Really now?” Baekhyun questions, his hand petting the back of his head softly as his fingers run lazily through Chanyeol’s matted locks.

“I beg to differ, Park.”

One of the only two sources of light in the room—Chanyeol’s embarrassing Buzz Lightyear night lamp that has definitely seen better days, with half the paint chipped off, part of one broken wing messily glued together, and almost half the command buttons missing—casts somber shadows in every corner of his basement turned bedroom.

At the moment, Baekhyun’s hooded gaze is setting fire to each and every single one of Chanyeol's nerve endings with hunger. His plush mouth parts in a silent, pliant whimper at a particularly hard thrust, and taller boy is sure he’s moving on autopilot now, attention completely stolen by the sight of those spidery trails painted across Baekhyun’s flushed cheeks, half light half shadow, as his fluttering eyelashes brush against the smooth skin below his eyes the moment he blinks.

But the peak of the momentum, in which the petite male looks other-worldly and Chanyeol wonders briefly how this boy trembling within his arms can even be _real_ to begin with, is short-lived.

Baekhyun opens his eyes and blinks twice before slowly, a wide, wicked smile is offered to the bewitched teenager.

“I clearly remember a certain someone sobbing about his weak ass muscles cramping up during sex and making his poor best friend finish the dirty deed in the end.” Baekhyun chortles as he feels the stutter in Chanyeol’s thrusts and watches the embarrassment washing over his shocked face with unconcealed amusement. “Very _uncocky_ , don’t you think?

“I- I-“ Chanyeol splutters, the spell officially broken.

And the seal breaks at the sight of Baekhyun’s raised eyebrow, the Pandora’s Box he’d been carefully keeping hidden opening and allowing those unwanted memories—like dark, ominous nightmares—to slither their way out from the deepest corners of his mind and consume his scattered thoughts. 

_How do you even go from dry-humping your horny boyfriend against the wall to mentally staring, front row, at the HD screening of your mortifying first time memories in a matter of fucking seconds!?_

Chanyeol can even picture inside his head his shitty neurons guffawing at him while throwing popcorn at the screen, imagining his frontal lobe scolding them all and whacking the chuckling glial cells in their axons for supporting the displeasing behavior.

But it would be hard to tell what the authoritarian lobe is arguing about with a couple of aggressive looking Astrocytes, as his Amygdala wouldn’t stop sobbing and wailing how it was all _so embarrassing! Stop it Hypo_! just as memory Chanyeol on the screen buries his sweaty face in the crook of Baekhyun’s neck while murmuring heartfelt apologizes for not being able to keep up any longer.

 _Weak!_ His cerebellum would drunkenly shout at the scene, hiccupping while taking another swig of his white-matter moonshine.

And of course, his Hypothalamus would be evilly cackling at his dismay, ignoring his wife’s pleas as he keeps replaying the torturous scene over and over again, on an endless loop for his own twisted pleasure. _That bastard!_

 

…Chanyeol really, really needs to stop reviewing his Biology notes so late at night.

He’s quickly pulled out of his weird ass thoughts as Baekhyun wraps his arms around his neck, ruffling the back of his head and making Chanyeol’s heart leap at the doting gesture.

“It’s okay Yeol, you may not be cocky, but I still love your cock,” The sly fiend smiles cutely despite the horrible pun, leaning to nip the tip of his nose before nudging it with his own in a playful manner at the sight of the taller’s growing pout. “And you, of course.”

“You’re cruel Baek.”

“Sometimes you gotta be cruel to be kind.” Baekhyun winks, smooching his cheek.

Chanyeol, sulking, pouts a little more despite the corner of his mouth twitching with the restraining of a smile, slowly letting the petite boy slide down to stand on his slightly quivering legs.

Like always, as he pulls him closer, Chanyeol’s hands feel big and warm against the smooth outcurve of Baekhyun’s hips, thumbs drawing circles on the jutting hipbones as the latter’s delicate hands slide up his sides to anchor themselves in a relaxed grip on the fabric above his ribcage.

The moment of desire and unrestrained want is officially over and pushed back to be consummated later, but Chanyeol can’t even bring himself to be mad, already used to the strangeness of their dynamics.

The eighteen year old grins while placing his chin on top of his chest, staring up into Chanyeol’s attentive eyes, his own dark brown orbs alight with a little bit of contentment and a little bit of lo--

_...wait, what?_

“Baek.” Chanyeol whispers slowly, his hands shooting up to cradle the smaller one’s face as he takes a small step back to properly look at him.

His almond shaped eyes are blown wide and the sight makes Baekhyun tilt his head, puzzled by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “What did you just say?”

“Huh?” Baekhyun frowns in confusion. He scrunches his nose and purses his lips, obviously displeased with the confusing inquiring. “The cruel to b-“

“No, no, babe,” Chanyeol shakes his head fast, his calloused thumbs caressing the soft baby skin under the latter’s eyes.

The rarely used pet name has Baekhyun instantly blushing. A soft pink dusts over his cheeks. “Before that, you said something else.”

“How I love your...  _cock_?” Chanyeol chokes on a breath but nods otherwise, making the petite teenager lift an eyebrow in amusement. “That’s it?”

“How you love my cock, _and..._ ” He drags the word out, watching the way his boyfriend puffs his cheeks as he’s slowly starting to become exasperated by the lack of proper explanations.

Chanyeol knows he’s being annoyingly petulant, but he has to make sure.

“ _And_ how I love yo-“ _Oh!_ Baekhyun’s eyes seem to say as he slaps both hands over his mouth, droopy eyes wide as recognition dawns on him at last.

Having been best friends for as long as Chanyeol could remember had made the transition from friends to lovers rather smoothly—with a few extra benefits.

No awkward first dates.

No painfully tedious _getting to know each other_ phase.

Friends and family had instantly supported the newly formed couple after days of brooding over the subject a thousand times and going around in circles while trying to find the perfect time to drop the news.

It hadn’t been quite the stellar revelation to his group of friends as they had first thought. In fact, it had been already expected by their small group of friends—and for quite a long time it seemed.

Baekhyun had even looked downright offended as Kyungsoo begrudgingly slammed twenty bucks into Jongdae’s grabby hand one day over lunch.

Apparently, Do Kyungsoo had betted on them getting together at Senior Prom—shy stares, dual confessions, and full on slow dancing under an artificial night littered with twinkling paper stars included—and Kim Jongdae, being the annoying little smurf, had confessed quite casually he had betted on their resident giant being too horny to wait that long, calling shots on a few months after starting their Junior year.

Chanyeol had been reduced to a gawking statue, watching in disbelief as Jongin and Sehun came out clean as well on having also placed bets on Chanyeol jumping Baekhyun’s tiny bones but on different timelines, equally depicting the lanky teenager more like a horndog than the awkward overgrown lab pup he was on daily basis.

Vexed, Chanyeol had actually considered that day the thought getting new friends.

But Jongdae's mom always packed extra brownies for them, Jongin had a really cool longboard he lets him borrow on the weekends and Sehun once defended him when Jongdae had said he looked like a scrawny drumstick.

So he allowed the thought to slide—temporarily.

Coming out—in every sense of the way—to their families had been an entirely different thing on its own.

The Byuns had been extremely happy and supportive towards the couple, with Mr. and Mrs. Byun both offering a set of warm smiles and reassuring hugs to the tall teen fidgeting under the sudden attention while Baekhyun got into a playful headlock with his older brother.

After the buzz had died down, and after a weak squeeze of Baekhyun’s hand under the table, Chanyeol had felt an overwhelming sense of relief at their whole-hearted acceptance. He felt welcomed, wanted, even after Baekhyun had reassured him beforehand his parents had been already loving his dorky self for a long, long time. The comforting sense of belong lingered in his heart afterwards.

And the sentiment persisted, even after catching Baekbeom’s hawkish eyes watching his every move across the table, shuddering at the disturbingly eerie smile flashed towards him throughout dessert.

On some nights, Chanyeol still dreams about that set of pearly white teeth, rivaling Baekhyun’s own sunshine smile, that had blatantly contrasted the grim image of those calloused, tattooed hands butchering Mrs. Byun’s delicious rib-eye steak into tiny, meticulous, _unsettling_ pieces (after casually dropping an inappropriate comment on how the piece of meat looked like a crooked dick if you squinted your eyes. Comment that earned him a cuff in the head from his father, an eye roll from Baekhyun, and a low whimper from Chanyeol.)

So, to say he hadn’t seen much of the professional tattoo artist slash future reaper slash future brother-in-law in the year that followed was quite the understatement.

But hey, Chanyeol is still alive and kicking, and sometimes _you gotta loose some, to win some_ —insightful words from the fortune cookie of his last Chinese takeout.

Who needs pride anyways, right?

Park Chanyeol: 01

Evil Big Brothers: 00

Much to his dismay though, Chanyeol had been alone the moment he had broken the news to his own folks, petite boyfriend away that weekend to visit his grandparents at their hometown.

Baekhyun had made him promise he would tell his parents, fed up from having to stay clear from the nice pair to avoid awkward, unplanned confessions.

Chanyeol had reluctantly agreed after a few bribing kisses.

So it was a week later that the teen decided to put his jumbled thoughts into words and go for it on a particularly silent Friday night dinner.

But it hadn’t been out of the blue. The lackluster revelation had been built up the entire afternoon, carefully pieced together and rehearsed one and a million times in the confinement of his room, only to have it crumble to pieces once Chanyeol’s nerves had made their glorious appearance at the table later that night.

And what an appearance it had been, with the teenager coughing and almost choking to death after a long, nervous water sip as his parents had inquired, once more, about the lack of Baekhyun around the house the past few days, setting the mood of the conversation and--

_fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck..._

‘H-hey! About that -cough- um, you know Baek, right? Yeah, of course you do -cough- anyways, uh, I, and him, as in he _and_ I, we’re, we’re--’

‘Fighting?’

‘Not Talking?’

‘Fucking?’

‘No! No, and _what the hell Yoora!?_ ’

On the spur of the outburst half the apple pie had been flipped over the table, two glasses of water tipped over and contents spilled over nearly finished lasagnas and his mom’s yellow dress.

And after a very condescending and disapproving glare at the cackling college girl avoiding Chanyeol’s elbow jabs, his parents had asked once more and he had finally blurted out the truth, getting knocked out of his chair three seconds later as his mother pretty much launched herself across the table to smother his face in kisses and _thank you! thank you! thank you!’s_ at the idea of finally having the cute baby-faced boy as son-in-law under her belt.

His father had just laughed at his wife’s ridiculous antics and offered him a big, fatherly path on his back. Yoora had simply rubbed her knuckles in his head and congratulated him on finally _not screwing up for once._

He silently congratulated himself for that too.

Days and months that followed the disclosure of their new couple status had gone by fast, almost _too_ fast in retrospective.

Aside from stolen kisses, warm, clammy hands squeezed together under tables, scorching, knowing gazes thrown across classrooms, and obnoxious amount of touching and playful tickles that more often than not escalated into whines, shivers and bites under the sheets, their dynamics had remained the same.

Chanyeol still stays over most of the weekends at the Byun’s, cuddled up in his boyfriend’s comforting lap, cozy inside his awesome attic-turned-to-bedroom while watching one of their favorites: Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

The seventeen year old still enjoys staying cooped up in his own bedroom on weekdays, homework somewhere forgotten in favor of taking turns and playing a quick match of Excitebike in his vintage edition NES. Chanyeol still purposely crashes on a ramp at the last lap, screwing his score on the last five seconds of the race in favor of letting his sulky, hard-headed opponent top his score (secretly just wanting to watch Baekhyun’s triumphant grin splitting his face as the latter gives him a couple of unneeded advices on how to get off the grass faster by pitching the bike’s front up.)

Chanyeol still heedlessly laughs on the street at the sight of Baekhyun’s scrunched up face after biting on a piece of cucumber from their shared sandwich. He still wheezes as the dork gets brain-freezed after a particularly long slurp of the blueberry Slushie he had minutes prior cheekily stolen from the taller teen.

They still bicker as they try—and fail—to reach an agreement on which album had been the turning point for Slipknot to transition from Heavy Metal and become more _Industrial Rock-y._

‘The Gray Chapter.’ Chanyeol had countered once while he scrolled through his twitter feed. Baekhyun had gasped loudly at the offense on one of his ultimate favorite albums, throwing the perplexed boy off his bed.

‘How _dare_ you!’ He had cried before jumping on him to tickle the terrified teen to death.

Chanyeol still did every little thing he used to do with Baekhyun, grateful that their friendship ties hadn’t been severed by their spontaneous confessions.

There hadn’t been any extravagant, eye-opening revelations, no torturously long, one-sided pinning. One moment Chanyeol had been quietly listening to some new bought records with his best friend, and the next he’d been staring into the latter’s eyes looking back at him with the same amount of want and longing he’d been keeping locked in his heart.

Chanyeol hadn’t asked, he hadn’t said it, and Baekhyun either. Just a look, and he had _known_. It was always that way with them; feelings unspoken, yet understood.

Which made this precise moment, in which Baekhyun’s staring at him wide eyed and looking so small and vulnerable, the more grounding.

Because for the first time ever, albeit unconsciously, Baekhyun had told Chanyeol he loved him.

It wasn’t like he couldn’t feel the smaller one's love in his actions every day. Chanyeol knew very well how much he meant to the gorgeous boy and likewise.

But there are certain things that still need, that beg, to be said, not to be taken like some proof of a relationship but more like a sweet treat—something to indulge in—and they’ve both been so engrossed in their own little world they’d somehow forgotten in the course of a year to word out the most obvious, trivial thing ever.

Chanyeol smiles in fondness, finding endearing the way Baekhyun’s cheeks flush the prettiest shade of pink.

“This is the first time you’ve ever...”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun whispers, hands falling on his sides. The tiny curl at the corner of his mouth makes Chanyeol’s own smile widen.

“And it had to be in the same sentence as my cock.”

“You’re both very precious to me.”

“Thanks.” Chanyeol snorts.

He finds himself stepping close once more, with hands snuggled comfily on Baekhyun’s hips, drawing him towards his warmth.

“Say it again.” He murmurs, watching the way the older boy bites on his bottom lip at the feeling of their foreheads touching, eyelids fluttering delicately as Chanyeol’s nose brushes over his ever so gently. “Say it.”

“Chanyeol, I-“

“Hmm?” Chanyeol hums, watching the teenager petting his chest before fiddling nervously with the front of his Iron Man shirt, avoiding eye contact.

“I- I-…” Baekhyun mumbles and finally lifts his gaze to meet his own.

His warm, brown orbs look like molten dots of starlight flickering under the shadows casted over his face, like half moons now ablaze with profound longing that wrecks havoc and fire on every place his fingers touch and press on Chanyeol’s chest.

But the moment is cut short as something else flashes before his droopy eyes after a heartbeat, making the small teen frown as he cranes his head back to look up properly into Chanyeol’s hooded stare.

His small mouth slowly forms a soft pout and Chanyeol knows right then that he’ll never get the confession he now childishly wants—like, ever. _Fuck_ _!_

“Why should _I_ be the one to say it? You haven’t said it either, you jerk.” Baekhyun scowls now as his hand forms a fist and punches his chest lightly. “It’s _your_ turn to say it now Yeol.”

“But Baek!” Chanyeol whines, earning a well-deserved snort from his boyfriend as his hands still holding on the soft sides of his hips give an encouraging squeeze. “You didn’t even say it fully! Even my dick got a nicer love confession! You have to word it out properly for it to count.”

“I don’t care, it’s your turn now.” He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.

“No.” Chanyeol huffs as well, equally crossing his arms as he takes two steps back, matching his boyfriend’s defying stance. “You say it.”

“ _You_ say it!”

“No! _You_ say it!”

“Yeol!”

“Baek!”

“Ugh! _Fine!_ ” Baekhyun groans out, stomping his way around his tall post of a boyfriend.

He turns around as he stands in the middle of the room, running his fingers through his disheveled dark locks, a habit he has whenever he feels frustrated or cornered. “We’ll do it both. Together. At the same time.”

“Bu-“

“No buts Park!” Baekhyun barks, stomping his adorable, small socked foot in the carpet with every word.

Chanyeol bites his bottom lip, trying really hard to keep the annoyed façade a bit longer despite feeling utterly smitten on the inside by Baekhyun’s unconscious display of cuteness.

“Fine, fine. Together then.”

“Okay.” Baekhyun breathes out before licking his lips nervously. “We’ll make it on the count of three. Ready?”

They both nod, feeling the sudden stress heaving down in the surrounding air.

_1… 2… 3!_

 

“ _I hate you!_ ”

They both gasp, eyes blown wide as their disastrous confessions overlap one another. Baekhyun races to the bed and jumps on it, pointing an excusing finger at Chanyeol just as the gangly male equally mimics his posture as he runs toward the other side of the room, standing in the blink of an eye at bottom of the stairs.

“ _Jinx!_ ” They gasp once more.

“ _Double Jinx!_ ”

Silence settles...

Before Baekhyun growls and stomps his feet around the bed in frustration as Chanyeol is left in stitches.

They’ve played this game multiple times in the past, but this is the first time they’ve overruled one another. Something warm and fond settles in Chanyeol’s heart soon after, loving the thought of them being so attuned to one another even in the most banal ways.

Once his laughter dies down, he makes his way to the annoyed boy still standing on his bed. Baekhyun looks positively pissed—automatic translation: ridiculously adorable.

“Don’t look so mad, babe.” Chanyeol grins lop-sided, arms weaving around his no longer vertically challenged boyfriend. “It’s funny, y’know? Normally I’m the one getting jinx’d first and buying you ice-cream as penalty.”

“I guess.” Baekhyun sighs out in defeat, scrunching up his nose as his arms are still crossed over his chest—the spitting image of petulancy. “But that’s ‘cause you’re most of the time a complete klutz, Yeol. I mean, by the time you realize we’ve both said the same shit you’re already getting your ass jinx’d ten feet under grown.”

Chanyeol gawks, pulling back to stare at Baekhyun’s sly smile, but his coyness doesn’t last long as the younger male grins back with equal amounts of humor before he lunges forward and buries his face against his soft stomach, lifting him up in the air.

“Park Chanyeol! Put me down, you overgrown pup!” Baekhyun shrieks, smacking at his shoulders with no intent of real harm as the laughing teenager spuns him around.

“No. I’m a klutz, I suddenly forgot how to put people down safely. I’m gonna make you fall down the stairs!”

Chanyeol starts going up the stairs in the basement just to spite the partially laughing partially terrified teen before he goes back down, spinning a little more while he goofily sings along the lyrics of the last Nirvana track before it ends.

 _‘I wish I could eat your cancer when you turn black’_  He hums the last bit of lyrics, nibbling the soft skin of Baekhyun's stomach over his shirt playfully and making the smaller boy squirm, before standing still as the song comes to an end and silence falls in the room.

Baekhyun’s weak struggles come to a stop, staring down at his boyfriend’s grinning face looking up at him from his abdomen.

Finally Chanyeol gives up, walking forward until he collapses on the bed, careful not to crush the latter with his weight, face still buried in his midsection as he breathes in his scent.

“You’re an idiot.” Baekhyun mumbles, nimble fingers carding through Chanyeol’s mop of black hair, wishfully missing the pink pastel locks dyed a long time back as his eyes are trained on the old glow-in-the-dark dinosaur stickers scattered around the ceiling.

Chanyeol exhales contently, lifting his face up to rest his chin at the dip of his navel just as his boyfriend looks down. He offers a toothy, dimpled smile, making Baekhyun’s heart squeeze at the adorable sight.

“I’m your idiot though.”

“That you are.” Baekhyun chuckles, letting his fingers slide from his hair to the side of his face, tracing his jaw dotingly before he boops his nose. “The idiot that I love.”

 _Of course_ , Chanyeol’s loud laughter rumbles through their bodies as he hides his face in his boyfriend’s stomach.

At this point, he knows he might never get the magical, soul-stirring _I love you_ everyone dreams about, but being completely honest, he doesn’t even want it. 

He wants this moment, with Baekhyun staring at him with the intensity of a thousand unspoken love confessions once he lifts his face to resume his previous position.

It’s more than enough. It's everything.

“And that idiot loves another idiot very much too.” They both chuckle, even when Baekhyun pinches his side playfully before dragging his long body up to capture his mouth in a kiss.

It’s only after a few touched out breaths and a few minutes of wandering hands searching warm patches of exposed skin that the intimate moment breaks at the sound of Baekhyun’s phone notifications.

Chanyeol groans as the eighteen year old draws back, giving his pouting lips one last peck before he tilts his hips up just enough to pat his back pocket and fetch the blue-balling device out.

The resigned teenager slides down his boyfriend’s mid section, chin resting once more on the softness of his belly as big, puppy eyes blink curiously while watching Baekhyun scroll through his notifications.

He mindlessly tilts his head to the side as catches those delicate fingers suddenly freezing on the screen.

Thank God Chanyeol’s clumsy reflexes are suddenly up to par, rolling off the bed in a split second and narrowly missing getting his head smashed and concussed by Baekhyun’s knees as the petite male suddenly sits up, so hastily and so fast, that for a moment he resembles one of those fluorescent slinkies Chanyeol used to play with when he was little—he almost waits for Baekhyun to start wobbling back and forth as an after effect.

But the latter barely resembles a joyful, precompressed spring toy at the moment. If anything, he looks more like Chucky’s older, and smoking hot cousin.

Baekhyun looks positively murderous, a scowl plastered across the entirety of his face as he searches for something on his phone before slamming his thumb on the ‘call’ button.

Chanyeol can only bite the inside of his cheek as he remains sitting on the floor, scooting a little closer to the edge of the bed.

He feels confused, yet also childishly excited, wondering who’s the poor shmuck at the receiving end of his tiny boyfriend’s ominous wrath.

“Kim Jongdae!” _Ah that poor bastard._ “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”

Chanyeol taps Baekhyun’s foot, capturing his attention for a fleeting second as he waves his other hand in the air, mouthing a concerned _what’s wrong?_

But the peeved boy is busy shaking his head at whatever Jongdae’s saying, eyes far-off and cold. He’s also tugging on his lip piercing, the dark piece of jewelry toyed between his teeth until he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“We had an agreement Kim.” He replies coolly, back straightening. “But of course, I should’ve known loyalty means nothing to the likes of you.”

Baekhyun’s hand finds Chanyeol’s still resting on his foot, giving his index finger a gentle tug. It offers comfort to the taller’s growing concern.

“I don’t want your apologies, and of course Jongin would be glad to join us, he’s a good friend, unlike others.” The angry teen retorts with his upper lip curled in disdain.

He’s soon standing up, careful not to step over the giant cutely sitting on the carpeted floor as he paces around the room before abruptly coming to a stop.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Baekhyun gasps in horror, shaking as if rage is suddenly blowing ripples in the surface of his pale skin. “Mark my words Kim Jongdae: You’re going _down._ ”

After the vicious threat is placed in the form of a hoarse, menacing whisper, the call ends and the phone is angrily tossed over the spacious desk full of books and manga booklets.

Chanyeol doesn’t need to ask though, as Baekhyun’s eyes pierce his within an arm’s length, his chest raising and falling before drawing a long sigh out.

“Yeol...”

The teen remains unmoving, simply staring at Baekhyun and keeping his gaze steady and focused, urging him to continue. Dread had started to settle in the pit of his stomach the moment he had seen the small boy pacing around the room while ruffling his head in frustration.

He has an idea of what had set the normally joyous boy off, but he wants to be wrong. Chanyeol can only hope.

“He did it, didn’t he.” It’s not even a question. Baekhyun can only nod.

“Fuck dammit…” Chanyeol curses lowly, rubbing his forehead.

“He said he didn’t mean to, that he didn’t do it out of spite or anything.” Baekhyun says mockingly before he gives a loud, derisive laugh. “He even said he was _sorry_. Ha! Kim Jongdae being sorry. What a joke, right?”

But it’s not a joke, he _could_ picture the normally brazen teen feeling slightly guilty about bailing out of their agreement so last minute.

Sighing, Chanyeol stands up and makes his way towards the annoyed male, cradling his face in his hands.

“It’ll be alright, yeah? We’ve got each other.” Chanyeol smiles, leaning to peck Baekhyun’s forehead gently. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

Baekhyun chuckles at last, tilting his head up with a smile slowly stretching over his lips. “I’m not gonna leave you either.”

“Good.” The drummer nods solemnly before breaking into his trademark goofy grin. “We just need to ask Jongin to joins us. He plays a mean Reinhardt, we’ll be fine Baek.”

“Still, babe, we’re like an hour behind on the event, and it’s a hybrid map too.” The small teen whines as he recalls how tricky the hybrid Overwatch map can get, wiggling in the younger one’s embrace before he puffs his cheeks in annoyance. “Not only did that cheeky, little rat abandoned us to join another team and didn’t tell us the brawl was starting early—even when he had specifically said he would so we could all get online together!—but he also sent screenshots of the event only an hour after it had started! And the worst part is that he meant to send them to Sehun, but the idiot sent them to our group chat instead by accident!”

“That skinny fuck...” Chanyeol narrows his eyes, silently seething.

“And it’s a unique event this time Yeol! Halloween themed!” His small hands fist on the younger one’s chest, knocking his giant boyfriend out of his reverie as he shakes the lanky teen wildly, but stops a few seconds later only for a huge pout to settle on his mouth. “I heard there were gonna be some surprise loot boxes scattered around the map too... I wanted to finally win Hanzo’s limited edition victory pose that looks like he’s dabbing...”

“Then we better hurry and show that greedy bastard who he just messed with.” Chanyeol grins, scooping the now squealing boy close as he peppers his face with ticklish kisses. “No one messes with my puppy and gets away with it!”

“Ew! Stop!” Baekhyun guffaws, halfheartedly pushing the taller male off only to surrender as those wandering, plush lips make the perfect stop at his mouth.

Chanyeol pulls away only to smack two more, final kisses on his lips. “Come on now, you handle the set up and I’ll call Jongin.”

He's about to pull away and get his phone still charging at the nightstand, but Baekhyun tugs at his shirt and steals his attention once more.

“Mmm... I love it when you get all confident and assertive, Mr. Doomfist.” Baekhyun murmurs, licking his lips before throwing a playful, sultry gaze at his boyfriend with his thin hands sliding up his chest suggestively.

Chanyeol cocks an eyebrow at the sudden mood change and the Overwatch cringy innuendos. He gives in and a smirk settles at the edge of his lips, arms tightening their hold around the small waist.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Hanzo.” Chanyeol accepts the compliment casually, leaning sideways to whisper lewdly against his ear, letting his lips faintly graze the shell. “Maybe later, if you play your cards right, I can show you how assertive my _Meteor Strike_ can be.”

“Ooh, _baby!_ Talk dirty to me.” Baekhyun mewls and wiggles his eyebrows, making Chanyeol burst out laughing.

With a last peck on the lips and a playful smack in the smaller male’s bottom, they both go to their respective tasks.

Calls are made, Overwatch loads thankfully fast despite the shitty internet reception at the basement, and after a spontaneous run upstairs to stock on unhealthy, midnight snacks, they’re both ready to rank high in the next hours that follow.

Which happen to be more hours than expected, as it’s not until Yoora—in all her makeup-less, bird-nest haired glory— stomps her angry way down the basement stairs at 4 am, ready to bite their heads off after a particularly booming laugh on Chanyeol’s part, that the pair realize they had been playing all night long, consumed in their gameplay.

The college student snorts, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares at the couple huddled close in Chanyeol’s desk chair, sharing an earbud each while dark-circled eyes blink at her innocently.

The image is quite endearing, she reluctantly consents, with Baekhyun’s lithe body cladded in one of Chanyeol’s old sweatshirts, supple thighs resting comfily over his boyfriend’s lap sideways while his back is pressed against the armrest.

His body looks surprisingly confortable and well accommodated despite the restricted space, while her idiotic brother has a big hand casually resting high on his thigh, wearing nothing but that ridiculous pair of red Rilakkuma boxers he got as a birthday present last year.

The entire scene screams couple goals, and Yoora would coo and openly tease the teenage sweethearts, but it’s 4 am on a Sunday and she got back home just two hours ago.

Yoora can feel the hangover pain crawling around her brain, finding the perfect spot over her temple to nestle on for the rest of the day.

Yoora feels like skinning her baby brother alive for sounding like a wheezing chipmunk when he laughs.

At last, Yoora smiles.

“What in the flying fuck do you buffoons think you’re doing awake at 4 bloody am in the morning?”

“Uhhhh...” Chanyeol smartly replies.

Yoora sighs—of course.

“Sorry Yoo, we lost track of time.” Baekhyun smiles sweetly. He feels a tad bit sheepish at being caught half sprawled over his boyfriend’s lap.

“You know, normal couples would be jumping at the opportunity of spending a Saturday night romping under the sheets and getting all horny at the idea of getting caught and shit.”

Yoora's snort breaks into an open yawn—a very unladylike yawn in Chanyeol’s opinion, but she’s always been ugly in his eyes, so no surprise there—rolling her eyes afterwards. “But you two decide to spend the entire night playing video games. You’re such weirdos.”

“You’re just jealous.” Chanyeol mumbles as Baekhyun takes the controller off his hands, finally saving their gameplay.

He barks a quick _fuck you_ to Jongdae and an amiable _good night_ to Jongin as he plucks the earbuds off while logging out the game. They still had classes on Monday, so catching up on some sleep was not really an option for the normally sleep-deprived Seniors.

“Of course I’m jealous.” Yoora replies, sending a coquettish wink at the short boy still half perched on Chanyeol's lap. “You caught such a cutie pie, makes me wanna find one for myself too… or better yet, steal yours!”

She grins wickedly as she charges forward, making Baekhyun choke in laughter at the sight of his hopeless boyfriend locking his arms around him, shielding him from his sister’s playful, grabby hands.

“Back off Yoora! Get your own cutie! This one’s _mine!_ ” Chanyeol yells, annoyed and heedless of how loud he’s being, giving more of his naked back to his sister as Baekhyun chuckles while burying his smile in the curve of the younger one’s neck.

“Fine, fine, I surrender.” Yoora cackles, retracting after a playful ruffle of Baekhyun’s hair that has Chanyeol whining pitifully at the affectionate gesture. “You can keep this cutie pie.”

Turning around, she makes her way up the stairs, stopping on the fourth step to give a final glance at the couple. “And get both your asses in bed already, or I’ll tell mom you spent half of your allowance money last week on a tube of premium cherry flavored lube and a jumbo box of XL condoms.”

“Get _out!_ ” Chanyeol howls, face flushed bright red as he watches the laughing evil entity finally climbing the rest of the way up and out the basement.

The door clicks shut much to his relief and an eerie silence settles in the air. Chanyeol gulps as he feels Baekhyun shift in his lap, trying not to stare too much at the flash of milky white skin that exposes itself the moment his shirt rides a little higher as he moves before it falls once he’s standing up.

“Baek--”

“Cherry flavored, huh.” Baekhyun contemplates in a low murmur, walking towards the nightstand. “ _Premium._ ”

The ‘P’ is worded deliberately loud, with a playful _pop_ , and the red flush that had been so fast to burn on Chanyeol’s face is now washing off just as intensely as he stares, still ashamed but now pale-faced, as the petite male successfully pulls out the tube of lube still sealed and ready to be used.

Chanyeol recognizes the sudden heat dancing in those gorgeous eyes, brown orbs burning like blazing coals under the faint rays of sunlight slowly starting to filter through the small window up. The sound of a bottle cap opening pulls the beguiled teenager out of his thoughts fast. 

Baekhyun gives a sly smile at the sight of Chanyeol’s appalled expression, shooting up an eyebrow in challenge as he applies some pressure on the tube, coaxing a small droplet of baby pink lube out and into his finger. He rubs a small amount over his puffed out bottom lip before his mouth encases the tip fully.

Chanyeol’s soul flies to heaven only to be slammed back to the chair.

“Sweet.” He smiles, giving a soft suck before finally releasing his finger—and Chanyeol's existence—from the torture. “I like it.”

“I-I’m glad you like it.” Chanyeol splutters, gripping both armrests his the wheeled chair tight, almost with a bruising force.

Baekhyun smiles fondly at him in silence, thoughtful, before approaching him with cautious steps.

He stands before him, between his legs, bottle of lube still in one hand as his other hand tugs at his still lube-coated lip innocently. It takes Chanyeol a few seconds to register what’s happening until it’s too late and Baekhyun is falling on the floor on his knees, like an angel falling from heaven to hell.

“Baekhyun!” Chanyeol gasps, sitting upright just as a pair of soft, delicate hands slide through the inside of his thighs, spreading them further apart. “M-my parents are gonna wake up at any moment now!”

“Okay.” The older boy concedes, and for a split second Chanyeol thinks he might move back, but his cool fingers teasingly slip under the cuff of his boxers and the thought flies out the window, along with all those pious promises he once made of never letting anything go too far in the presence of his parents—albeit their current unconscious and oblivious state—under the same roof.

Baekhyun’s mouth stretches in a foul smile, promising a good morning dose of debauchery.

“We’re gonna have to be _real_ quiet then, Mr. Doomfist.” The demon titters softly, his hands still following a path up and up Chanyeol's slim thighs until dexterous fingers hook on the waistband of his boxers. “Don’t worry though, good ol’ Hanzo is gonna show you in the meantime why they call him the _arrow master._ ”

“Fuck yes…” Chanyeol moans blissfully, biting hard on his lower lip as he can only lean back and stare hungrily at the fallen creature tugging his underwear down.

_He can’t wait._

 

 


End file.
